


Stale Regrets

by MuddyBlood



Series: Short Stories [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Drama, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Help, Why do I do this, oh shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuddyBlood/pseuds/MuddyBlood
Summary: Meagan had always smelled of gunpowder and the sea, with a hint of secrets. Billie, however, was followed by the scent of stale regrets.





	Stale Regrets

Meagan had always smelled of gunpowder and the sea, with a hint of secrets. Billie, however, was followed by the scent of stale regrets.

Emily never pried when it came to other’s secrets, even when the stench of them was all she could smell. Even Meagan, her first ally in this strange new world reeked of hidden truths. Even on the rare occasion they fell into bed together it was all Emily could focus on. When the truth about Billie came out Emily could finally put a name to the scent that haunted the older woman. 

So the Empress’ blade halted, pressed against Billie’s neck, before the angered woman turned away, hiding her face. Billie remained in place, still expecting a fatal blow that never came. Regret rolled off Billie in waves, following Emily even as she left, haunting her even years later. 

Her money was returned doused in it, the only correspondence they shared, and Emily’s mask, hidden in a dark corner of her closet still held the scent like a grudge. On the worst nights Emily would hold the mask close to her chest, breathing in the smell, remembering the mistakes they made together.

But even with all the power of the Empress of the Isles, Emily had not dared to hope to see Billie again, except in the depths of her subconscious. So it should not have been as surprising as it was when they did see each other again, as fate has a way of ignoring expectations.

Even years after her fight to reclaim the throne Emily’s footfalls still fell silently, and she still watched the shadows as if expecting someone to come out of them. So when someone did, behind her in a black market shop she shouldn't know about, let alone visit, her sword was at the strangers throat in an instant. Brown eyes met, both alight with recognition, even with disguises on both faces. 

“How very… familiar,” the intruder noted, not breaking eye contact or even reaching for a weapon. A scent Emily would know across a room invaded her senses again, stale on her tongue. 

“You’re lucky today is a day for breaking promises.” Emily said, face still as she recalled her promise to kill the other woman if they met again.

“You’ve changed.” It was spoken quietly, but still undoubtedly a statement rather than a question.

“And you haven’t?” Emily’s eyes scanned the glowing stone one across from her, and the numerous new lines across a face she learned long ago. Billie barked out a laugh at that, no mirth in her remaining eye.

“I guess we both have stories to tell, don’t we?” It was as obvious of an invitation as Emily had ever heard, but she still hesitated for a moment before folding her sword back against her arm. 

“It looks like you have quite the exciting one,” and for a moment it was as if they were back on the  _ Dreadful Whale _ , bodies pressed together, Emily gently tracing a scar as Billie told the story behind it. If Billie felt the same deja vu she didn’t let on, merely gesturing towards the back door of the shop with a sweep of her arm.

Emily hadn’t dared to hope to see Billie again, had hated herself for it whenever she caught herself doing so. But now, sitting across another splintery wood table from her, Emily couldn’t bring herself to hate the other woman. And despite everything, after weeks of meeting each other in secret, the smell of stale regret left the air around Billie, faded from where it lingered around everything she touched. Billie smelled of the sea again, tinged with gunpowder, and maybe occasionally even the bittersweet smell of a lover.


End file.
